


(never again) we'll be

by aconite (aconite_fic)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Merlin Rare Pairs, Summer Pornathon 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconite_fic/pseuds/aconite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Against better judgment, she raises her hand to illuminate the hallway and see the thing better. The recognition strikes her like a punch to the gut.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It’s her. It’s Morgana. But it’s not.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	(never again) we'll be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2015 Summer Pornathon, challenge 5 (Switch). Heavily inspired by Silent Hill.

_—when you sneak into the night and hear them,_  
_don’t you count to three;_  
_better run away_  
_or they will see, see, see—_

“I just wish I could come with you,” Elyan says, shoving his fists in his pockets.

Gwen sighs. “I know,” she says. “I need you out here.”  _I need you safe._

“I know,” he replies. “Just… be careful, yeah?”

“I will,” she assures him. She waits for him to raise his head and gives him a smile.

She then turns around and faces the mirror. She raises a hand towards it and feels the yearning to get closer. When she touches the surface she’s startled to see her reflection flicker for a second; the creature in the mirror is her but it’s  _not_. Its lips stretch into a menacing grin and she gasps, she wants to pull away, but then she blinks and—

It’s over. She’s  _there_.

She looks around. She doesn’t think she can ever get used to it; the bathroom, murky and unsettling before, looks even worse here. It’s not even the uncleanness that’s bothersome. It’s the feeling that this place should be abandoned being overshadowed by the knowledge that it isn’t.

She glances at the mirror again. She thinks she can make out Elyan in the reflection, an unclear and distant outline of worry and fear. But maybe that’s just her. She sighs and goes out, careful not to make too much noise when shutting the door.

Everything in her screams to turn away, get back to the mirror, to Elyan, to her own world. But she can’t. There’s still this  _energy_  she feels, a light cuts through the darkness and guides her.

Magic, she’d called it. Morgana’s magic.

She  _knows_  it’s Morgana’s, even if Elyan doesn’t believe her. She doesn’t know what could happen that would separate magic from one’s being and cling to someone else. She both aches and dreads to find out.

The magic stretches out now, covers her surroundings and maps out everything that she can’t see. She’s learned to trust it and move through halls blindly, crawl and sneak around in order to avoid _them_.

She feels them now.

_—they aren’t here to comfort you_  
_or listen to your pleas;_  
_do not waste your time and beg,_  
_just flee, flee, flee—_

She’s barely breathing when she reaches the corner. She takes a few careful steps, not even looking in their direction, eyes set in the darkness where she knows she’ll find a doorknob. She touches the cold metal and presses down, only to find it locked. She barely suppresses a cry before she composes herself and turns around.

Settled on going the long way around, Gwen takes a breath and takes a step back to where she came from. The air gets stuck in her throat, mangles with a cry when she slips on something and knocks her hand on some thing or other in order to regain her balance.

And then she hears them.

In her panic she reaches a hand towards them, then squints at the light that bursts between her fingertips. Instinctively, her arm flexes as if to throw something, and the creatures let out horrifying, screaming sounds as they quiver under the magic she’s shot at them. They all fall down, except for one.

The thing stares and them before it turns to Gwen. Gwen is ready to attack, but then she hears the whisper.

“This is mine.”

Against better judgment, she raises her hand to illuminate the hallway and see the thing better. The recognition strikes her like a punch to the gut.

It’s her. It’s Morgana. But it’s not.

It’s everything Gwen loves about her. It’s all disgustingly exaggerated. Twisted. Ugly. But it’s still her soft hair, her piercing eyes. Her smirk, her skin, the fingers that Gwen twined with her own not too long ago. The body that she held against hers, the hands that caressed her, the lips that whispered in her ear and got to know places no one else ever had.

It’s everything of Morgana’s.

She takes a step closer.

“Gwen!” She hears a scream. Elyan. “Don’t! It’s not her!”

 _It’s not Morgana._  But it is.

The thing smiles and reaches for her. Gwen lets out a happy laugh and takes its hand.

_“Gwen!”_

_—if they do catch up to you_  
_and you fall to your knees,_  
_don’t you fight it anymore;_  
_just join me, me, me._


End file.
